I learned today that the free wi fi at Panera Breads will not allow me to blog and post from my laptop. I figured after writing the support team at wordpress that there may have been a filter that prevents such activity. Still dumb about the whole thing and now am giving up on the practice of taking my laptop to a coffee shop to work on writing,… maybe. Experiences like this make me want to run to the pen and notebook mode of thinking and writing longhand the next great american novel. My backpack is not full without a book to read, stylos and a notebook for the errant desires of the cursive hand. I am a 1.5 on the bridge towards all this 2.0 technologies!
But mental setback aside, I web surfed and listened to music on my boyfriend’s ipod. An hour into claiming our corner of the shop, I forgot where I was…. looking past the panoramic windows keeping human traffic at bay.
I move my lips to Michael Buble’s rendition of Save the Last Dance for Me. By the way I was swayin’ and singin’ along I might as well have been driving inside my car, but on mute out of consideration for others. I remember how much I love music I can sing along to. I remember how much I love to free myself in dance, especially from a seat on a chair.
Of the stories I cherish from early childhood, there is one of my grandfather advising my mother to keep me in the dance and musical arts. “She is a dancer.” My mother still has the black and white photo of me in a white summer dress and pigtails dancing in the center of the floor where my brother sat eating watermelon slices in between her legs and my father was seated in the audience and hand smoking a cigarette through a long filter.
By the time I enrolled in dance after school, mom told me that my thighs were too big and that it was hard for her to find tights in my size. My mother showed me that I was fat before I learned how to dance.
Copyright 2010 Hae Jung Kwon. All rights reserved.